A/N: I hope you like this story, this is the first story I've ever written and I'm hoping that you like it. Let me know. R&R Please!
Chapter 1
Charlie happily bobbed his head up and down to the beat of the music blasting in his ears. Had other people been present they would have said he were a chicken bobbing its head and not a highly educated mathematician graduated from high school at thirteen years of age and the owner of multiple PhD's. He darted from board to board, adding new complex mathematical equations to already lengthy complicated equations. He was finally getting to work on a project he'd wanted to do for a long time. He wouldn't have pesky fathers demanding he take a break and hopefully no reason for the F.B.I to sidetrack him.
It had taken him weeks to convince his father to take a cruise or go on vacation. Now after all his hard work, his father was on a three-week vacation. He sang along with the song as loud as he wanted. With his dad on vacation that left the house to himself and no one to be courteous to. He smiled at himself as he reviewed the condition of the house. His mess of papers, opened books, chalkboards, and dishes from previous meals started in the garage, wound its way through the kitchen, and had now migrated to the living room. He could just imagine the face his old man would make if he saw this mess. Laughing at himself he dove right back into his work.
By sending his father on vacation, he knew in a way that he was sending himself on a desperately needed vacation. At some time during Charlie's work, his stomach grumbled. He didn't know whether it was a midnight snack or what day it was since he'd promised him he wouldn't bog down his vacation by keeping track of time. Bobbing towards the kitchen he dug out some pizza from the back of the fridge. Once the food was hot he sauntered back to the living room, stopping in his tracks.
Three men wearing all black with matching ski masks and gloves stood in the living room and pointed hand guns with silencers at him. They were all about the same height and build. The guy standing in the middle looked like he had an itchy trigger finger. Charlie didn't think twice, he threw the plate of food at the intruders and ran for the other room. A round of silent shots zinged mere centimeters away from him. One shot went through his thigh and embedded into the wall. The cord of the i-pod caught on a chair as Charlie skidded around it taking it from him. He could hear the loud thuds of people running towards him.
All at once they appeared in the doorway. The first jumped over the table straight at him, the other two ran at him from both sides of the table. He ducked the first and hopped onto the table sliding to the other side. Charlie was taken by surprise when the table tipped over and landed on its side with a crash that sent him tumbling. He groaned as a wave of pain coursed through his leg. He scrambled up and ran into the living room but was two seconds too late to escape a bullet embedding into his shoulder. Diving out of the way of a second bullet, he went over the back of the couch, bounced, and landed on the coffee table, collapsing it beneath him. Split second after the TV screen shattered from the bullet that missed him.
He could feel the tiredness taking over his body. he had to get out of there fast. Jumping up he made a run for the front door. He never knew he could switch directions so fast while running until one of his attackers materialized in front of the door. He turned and ran for the stairs. Charlie cried out when a large chunk of glass from the forgotten plate sliced into the sole of his foot. Exhaustion slowed his every movement, he could feel himself sinking. His body screamed for relief from the suddenly gained injuries. The fringes of his vision were disintegrating into blackness. He forced himself to limp up the stairs.
If he could lock himself in his room or the bathroom he might be able to call for help or escape through a window. His foot barely touched the top step when the butt of a gun smashed against his forehead. He never felt himself tumble down the stairs nor did he feel the shards of glass digging into his back. Charlie only saw his tree attackers hovering above him before his world collapsed to darkness.
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Don groaned as he rolled over in bed. He could hear his cell phone going off next to his ear. It was amazing how horribly bright and red his alarm clock glowed, especially at three in the morning. Glowering he looked at the caller I.D. things didn't improve at seeing it was Charlie's cell phone number. Grumbling he answered it.
"Do you have any idea what time it is?"
"Yes, I do" Don snapped to attention.
"Who is this?"
"You should be asking where Charlie is."
"Where's Charlie?"
"That is the question, isn't it?"
"Where is he?" Don growled
"With me, for now"
"How do I know you really have him?"
"You don't"
"I need to know he's still alive."
"Alright, you asked for it." Don heard the man snap his fingers, two pairs of footsteps hurried away only to return more slowly as if they were dragging some one. The next thing he heard was his brother begging for them, whoever they were, to stop, followed by the loud familiar snap of a bone being broken and Charlie crying out in pain. Don sat frozen; he never expected them to turn violent so easily.
"Now that I've got your attention, I want you to go to this hotel and wait for my next call. Oh, and remember, don't go to your F.B.I friends." Don jotted down the name of the hotel and its address. Tearing through his apartment he packed some essentials into a bag and drove away. Controlled by years of training he drove in the direction of the office only to pull over when his phone rang. Fearfully he answered the phone.
"You didn't do what I instructed, Eppes" Don never had a chance to answer; he suddenly heard a door swing open and the sound of his brother crying out in agony ring out through the phone. He could hear every terrible thud from the impacts inflicted upon his brother. He heard his brother desperately pleading for help. Don pleaded for them to stop. He promised total obedience, if they would only stop, but they didn't. The impacts continued, Charlie's pleads continued. Don just sat there, shaking, not knowing what to do.
This wasn't supposed to be happening. Criminals, especially those with hostages, weren't supposed to take it to this level, not this soon. He needed Terry. He needed her to tell him which button to push that would make them stop. But she wasn't here; it was only him, only he could make them stop. He was alone. Just as quickly as it had all begun, Charlie's voice became weaker and then was gone completely. Trembling he dropped the phone unable to keep his grip on anything when he heard the cruel clatter of a bat being thrown to the cold hard floor.
"Go to the hotel" was the last thing he heard before Don went numb to the world.